THE TRIP TO MAGIC MOUNTAIN

This is the story of how I spent over 350 dollars on my day at Magic Mountain:

It all began when my best friend Felipe Contreras brought up a team to Santa Barbara from YWAM's Mexico base. Each summer he brings a group up to see his hometown and have a little respite from the labor of building houses every week. Felipe also likes to take the group to Magic Mountain during their mini-vacation.

So I went to Magic Mountain yesterday. And I took four students with me. I was originally going to take just two students (Michel and Vittorio) and my sister and her boyfriend, but Catherine and Daniel canceled at the last minute, so 20 minutes before we were to leave we got two more students to join us: Gregoire and another French student from Valerio, Gigi.

The day was FANTASTIC! My best trip to Magic Mountain ever. This is what I rode on:

X (one time)
Goliath (four times)
Batman (two times)
Superman (one time)
Riddler's Revenge (one time)
Deja Vu (one time)
Tatsu (two times)
Viper (one time)
Scream (two times)

This is how long I went without eating that day:

15 hours

and this is how I spent 350 dollars on my trip to Magic Mountain:

I lost my car keys

What do you do when you are walking back to your car and you realize that your keys are missing? You run back to the park and go directly to Lost and Found in the Guest Services building.

And when they tell you that your keys were not picked up by any of the attendants on any of the rides, you feel sick and your body goes numb. Why? Because you are responsible for four foreigners who trust you and who have school tomorrow. The employee recommended I call back at 11 the next morning.

Well, after I didn't throw up I returned to the group, made some phone calls and decided to stay in a hotel for the night. We walked to a gas station who directed us to a Best Western just on the other side of the freeway. At 12:30am we walked in to find it completely booked. "But I heard there is one room left at the Holiday Inn," said the receptionist. The Holiday Inn was next door. Convenient, right? Except for the price: 169.00 for a single room with a King size bed, the only one they had left.

After I swallowed big, conferred with my comrades, and tried another hotel by phone with no luck, I decided to just bite the bullet and do it. At least the room would be nice and the amenities luxurious.

The three French boys made sure we got our money's worth. Even though it was 1:00am by the time we had settled into our room, they went out and used the Workout Room, the pool, and the 'business lounge' for free internet. When we left they took home with them some shampoo, pens, etc.

They actually really enjoyed the whole adventure, and had the best day possible at Magic Mountain, so that relieved a lot of my stresses throughout the ordeal.

In the morning I waited until 11 o'clock, and then promptly called Guest Services to find out that... No, they still hadn't found my keys. Time to bite the next big bullet and call the locksmiths.

145 dollars to get a replacement key for my car. The man on the phone asked for my car's model and year and then brought with him a box of 200 keys. Supposedly one of them would work on my vehicle. Crazy, huh?

So the locksmith picked me up from the hotel at about 11:20am and we drove across the way to Magic Mountain's parking lot where my little car sat waiting all night for me. He starts trying keys. He said sometimes it works right away, but if by chance none of the keys work, he will call his guy to come out and use a special tool to construct one from the lock. He tries each key one way, then takes it out, turns it over, tries again. For each key.

Guess what happened on the 199th key? It didn't work, of course! What are the odds of that happening? But on the very last key my car turned over. It worked! The very last key. Can you believe that? And I gotta tell you, it was hot out there. Valencia in the summer at about noon was 93 degrees out. And the sweat on my locksmith's head confirmed it.

"Incredible," he said. "The very last key." He couldn't believe it either. So he made a cut, tried it, made some adjustments, and I payed up. The 145 dollar key, plus the 150 dollar hotel room, and the 30 dollar park cost, along with gas costs and the fact that I was using minutes I didn't have on my phone (.40 cents per minute when I go over!) added up to more than 350 dollars.

But I am thankful that I am home now, able to write you this magical story of love and loss, and the wonder that is Magic Mountain.

THE WALKIE TALKIES

I have got just the sort of story you need for today! Are you ready?

Last night the two French boys came home at about midnight. I was on my computer listening to some great new music I overheard in a Starbucks downtown (Paolo Nutini) earlier in the evening. As I removed my earphones I could hear Michel and Gregoire's laughter from outside the front door. Hearing my students happy and enjoying life always makes me happy and proud to be doing what I'm doing.

As they entered the living room I saw that Michel was singing into a walkie talkie that he had in his left hand. I exclaimed "You got a walkie talkie!"

He responded "Yes! No more phone calls!" with a laugh and a smile. I understood immediately.

See, just around the corner from my house is a unit of apartments that EF calls the "Residence." The Residence is 30 apartments that house about three students each. The school owns them all. If a student wants more independence than being with a host family allows, they can opt for this independent living situation (for about 50 bucks more per month). It's really like the foreign students' dorms.

Naturally, all of my students end up having friends over at Valerio (the street name of the Residence). And how ingenious of the French guys to purchase walkie talkies! Instead of paying for minutes on their phones, they have instant access to their friends at any time through these perfect sounding handheld transceivers.

Whoever it was on the other end was having a blast with their sound system. I heard YMCA and about six other classic dance tunes in the span of about 2 minutes.

THE BAR

Hello my dear readers. I'm afraid I don't have any headline worthy news to report since the sensational exposition of my missing French student who was not really missing. So I will offer you a tasty vignette:

"Sharkeez"

Last night I went to Sharkeez, a sports bar and restaurant located in downtown Santa Barbara. Monday night is "International Night" and the foreign language school encourages students to attend the festivities and meet other students, dance, and have fun. The school has a deal with Sharkeez to allow entry to students under 21 until 10pm, which is nice for Europeans like my Daniel whose only night out on the town is Monday. He was telling me "It's so strange, man, to be in a bar and not have a beer." These guys are drinking in bars at the young age of 16. No hard liquor until 18, though!

I used to frequent Sharkeez a lot last year. It's nice to meet some of my students' friends and just hang out with the foreigners. I've made some good friends that way, like the French girls, Julie and Alizee. I never tire of hearing stories about other countries, cities, people. I've had the good opportunity to travel a bit in the last few years, so I can listen for what seems like forever with empathy and expressed interest in the stories of my traveling companions.

But allow me to present to you the star of this story, my French student, Michel (pronounced Me-Shell). At nine o'clock I entered the building, peering around at the smattering of foreigners here and there. At this table sits the Asians. Those ones look like Spaniards. Michel is at the back, sitting at a booth with not one, two or even five, but nine girls. Just Michel and the girls. This was after one day of school, mind you. Gorgeous French and Spanish girls. How does he do that?

THE BREAKING NEWS

My students came home from camping. Mikhail, Daniel, and Emmanuel came in with bags of leftover food.

And they brought the French student.

My lost French boy has been found! Or rather, he was never lost. By yesterday I had started assuming he was with them. Boy am I glad my assumptions were correct. That would have been quite a nightmare otherwise.

Despite the slight scare I had, I am really happy that my students took Michel along with them. What a great welcome to a new and unknown house/city! They all came in exhausted and dirty, but with big smiles. Everyone said they had an awesome time.

Now I am off to take my 44-year-old Brazilian to CompUSA for his laptop purchase.

THE MISSING STUDENT, PART II

Please read THE MISSING STUDENT first.

I called 911 this morning. The helpful operator there recommended that I contact the county jail and the hospital. Michel was not at either one of those places, which could be a good thing, but I'm not sure. I sent a message out to Emmanuel, one of the three students camping, but he hasn't responded yet so I can't know if Michel decided to go with them or not.

I will ride my bike up and down State Street now, hoping that blind luck (and answered prayers) will guide me to Michel.

THE MISSING STUDENT

It is 1:30 in the morning and my 18-year-old French student is officially lost in Santa Barbara.

Last night when Michel arrived I gave him a key to my house and a map of the city. I circled our house on the map, showed him where the downtown area is, etc. I had to work this morning and Michel was very tired, so I knew I wouldn't see him until five o'clock or so. I wanted him to have the freedom to explore the city on his first day in America.

Well, what a first day in America this must be for him. It's cold outside. The map is still on the table. The Japanese student hasn't seen him.

When I came home from work this afternoon the new student wasn't home. I figured he must still be out, enjoying the good weather. When he didn't come home for dinner I was a little concerned, but not too bothered. My students don't have to be home for dinner. So I went to a friend's house for a while and came home at eleven.

Michel was not home. That was the moment that I knew something was wrong. Because NOBODY stays out until 11:00 without a map, phone, or friends on their first day in a new city. Nobody.

I called the EF emergency number and was simply told to wait until morning. If he is still missing we will take the next course of action (call the police?).

My only possible hope is that at the last minute he joined my three other students on their camping trip.